I knelt silent, a fixture at Aiden’s feet, my cock throbbing miserably
in its cage. Every so often, someone’s eyes dragged down to me. I
knew what they saw: Mr. A’s boy. A display. A pet.
Across the table, movement caught my eye. Luna–kneeling at her
Master’s side–tilted her head, her lips forming a silent “Are you
okay?” under the table’s edge.
My chest tightened. I took a deep, shaky breath and gave the smallest
nod, mouthing back, “I’m okay.”
Halfway into the game, Aiden laid down a hand strong enough to
make the table murmur. He didn’t gloat–just leaned back, collected
his winnings with the kind of quiet authority that shut everyone else
- up.
Then, out of nowhere, he tugged the leash and pulled me up, straight to his mouth. His lips crashed over mine, sudden and claiming, Heat flared through me. For one dizzy second, I forgot the table, forgot the
audience–I just kissed him back. Hard.
A ripple of laughter and low encouragement ran around us. Someone
called, “That’s it, Mr. A, show him off.”
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My face burned under the mask. Aiden’s tongue pressed into my
mouth, his hand firm on the back of my neck. The kiss deepened,
shameless, until my cock felt like it might split the cage–and so
would Aiden’s.
When he finally broke the kiss, lips brushing mine, I crawled back to
take my stance at his right side.
The exchange–and the fire still flickering in Aiden’s eyes–must’ve
caught Master Roman’s attention. His voice slid across the table,
smooth as oil. “Luna, love, perhaps you’d like to congratulate Mr. A
for that hand… and welcome him properly?”
What?
The hell she is.
Before Aiden could even open his mouth, I scrambled forward on
instinct, crawling straight between his legs. Without asking–and
obviously without thinking–I parked myself directly in front of his
crotch like a human barricade, shooting Luna my best don’t you
fucking dare glare,
By the time reality smacked me–realizing exactly what I’d just done
-it was too late.
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Aiden’s gaze burned down into me. Controlled. Dangerous. Almost
amused.
“Thank you for the kind offer,” he said smoothly, eyes still on me,
“but it seems my submissive is… extremely eager tonight. And I’d
hate to deny him.”
Oh, fuck.
Then, with deliberate calm, he slid his hand into my hair and pressed
me down.
Down, toward his belt.
My heart slammed.
He unbuckled with one hand, still holding his cards with the other.
The zipper parted, the thick heat of him filling my vision. I glanced
up, breathless. He gave the slightest nod.
I obeyed.
My hand wrapped around his cock, stroking slow, reverent. My tongue
flicked over the head, teasing, tasting salt and power.
“That’s it, my boy,” he murmured, low enough for just me, even as he
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Chapter 118
threw in chips with his free hand. “Now take it slow… keep me warm.‘
Shame clawed at me. Everyone knew. Everyone could see. But fuck if I
was gonna let anybody else get between my man’s legs….
I slid down on him, lips sealing tight, taking him inch by inch. He
sighed, almost lazily, and card chatter resumed as if nothing obscene
were happening under the table.
I worked him with my mouth–slow, gentle suctions, tongue tracing
along his length. He threaded his fingers into my hair, tugging
occasionally, a silent command to adjust my pace.
Here and there, he rewarded me with a soft groan, a hand ruffling
through my curls like I was his favorite pet. Each sound went straight
to my chest, flooding me with that dangerous mix of humiliation and
bliss.
The table roared when another man caught a lucky hand, but I barely
heard it. My world had narrowed to one thing–him, in my mouth,
owning me completely while the world watched.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
